


Be Still My Tongue

by Narmaeth



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Amaurot (Final Fantasy XIV), Amaurotine Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25800448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narmaeth/pseuds/Narmaeth
Summary: Scenes of the past and present relationship between Hades/Emet-Selch and my Warrior of Light.
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Introductions

It was late afternoon in Amaurot and the sun was gracing its denizens with one final caress before dipping below the horizon. Among those walking the streets was Hades, slowly making his way through the busy streets towards his destination with a healthy amount of trepidation in his heart. He was heading towards the building that housed the Convocation of Fourteen, a place he had rarely had reason to visit before now. That he had reason to now was something he had not expected when awaking that morning.

The day had been blissfully uneventful and Hades had been anticipating it remaining so until his dear friend Hythlodaeus had entered Hades’ workspace. The man had strode into the room with a purpose, which promptly set off all of Hades’ alarm bells. Hades had tried his best to ignore his friend; unfortunately this was something Hythlodaeus had clearly anticipated for the vexing man merely conjured up a small device to toy with while he waited out Hades.

Hades had thought himself the more stubborn of the two but after hours of this he finally surrendered to his fate, falling back in his chair with a sigh of exasperation. “Out with it.”

“Oh come now, can I not simply enjoy your company?” Hythlodaeus mused, an insufferably smug smile on his face. Hades let out a sound of irritation, earning him a chuckle from Hythlodaeus. “Very well, I’ll get straight to the point: I have been asked to nominate a candidate to work on a project.”

Until that moment Hades had had an acerbic retort ready to spring from the tip of his tongue, but upon learning what Hythlodaeus wanted the words fled him. “You wish to nominate me?” Seeing his friend nod only puzzled Hades further. What could he possibly offer them? So he asked why.

Hythlodaeus tilted his head to the side, taking time to consider his answer. “Kokabiel asked for someone with an intimate understanding of the Underworld. You were the first to come to mind.”

That nugget of information caught Hades’ attention. “Kokabiel is working on this? Is the Convocation overseeing this project then?”

Hythlodaeus shook his head, his hands fluttering over the tiny machine in his hand. “Not quite. While it is true she is a member of the Convocation of Fourteen, this is not Convocation business.”

Hades remained quiet, opting instead to study his friend; Hythlodaeus only fidgeted like that when he was anxious for something to go his way. What was so important about this project to make him act like this?

Unfortunately no matter how much Hades tried he could not pry that information from Hythlodaeus. Hades could only follow his friends’ instructions and present himself for whatever fate awaited him.

The Convocation building was no different from the other buildings within the city; its beauty lying in the geometric lines and smooth, polished surfaces. It was elegant and tasteful, elements Hades had always admired of the city. These were palaces for the enlightened, for everyone here was equal.

But he was delaying the inevitable. He stepped inside and found his way to Kokabiels’ designated workspace. He stood on the threshold and was overcome with a sense that he was about to do something profoundly life changing. He toyed with the idea of turning around and ignoring the feeling out of spite but his curiosity won out.

He stepped inside.

* * *

Emet-Selch leaned back against the wall and watched the scene unfold before him, his eyes never leaving the young woman who was knelt beside a wounded man. This was his first time seeing this reincarnation and it was incredibly unnerving.

All previous incarnations had looked nothing like Celaeno. If he hadn’t recognised the soul that rested within their breast he wouldn’t have believed them to be her. This one, however, was almost identical. The only difference between this incarnation and the original were the horns, scales and tail. Even then, Emet-Selch believed Celaeno would have approved of the addition. Dull black at a glance, in the light they shimmered with the full spectrum of colour.

Exactly like her soul.

Celaeno’s soul would sparkle and shimmer with colours when she felt strong emotion, cast magic… or when she saw Emet-Selch.

Movement in the crowd brought his attention back to the present; a young elezen boy was helping the wounded man leave the audience chamber. She followed behind them, her stride confident despite the stares of the people around her. Her gaze fluttered around the room before settling on him, her step faltering for just a second as her eyes widened.

Her soul flared with colour.

_Interesting._

Throughout the long, long years since the sundering he had never seen her soul react to his presence like this. He struggled to ignore the urge to acknowledge her presence, to invite her to explore her surprise. He desperately tried to stifle the tiny spark of hope that flared in his heart.

_Will you remember me?_

The second stretched for what felt like an eternity before she remembered herself and continued on, a frown now marring her forehead.

No one else had noticed their brief connection and for that he was grateful. He was here to observe, not draw attention to himself. He couldn’t waste time trying to coax out memories that may or may not be there.

Yet neither could he ignore the acute sense of longing within his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a very, very long time since I shared any sort of fiction. It's unpolished and my skill with the English language is lacklustre. Even with this in mind, I thought someone out there might enjoy my writing so... why not.
> 
> \- The Ascian titles tend to be based on Angels and Hebrew, so I went with a fallen angel: Kokabiel, for my WoL's title.  
> \- As their personal names tend towards Greek, I chose a Greek name for her: Celaeno.


	2. Meetings

The first thing Hades noticed was how dim the room was. The next thing was how quiet the room was. He felt enveloped by… well, the night. Gazing up only confirmed this sensation for the ceiling was coloured a deep, rich blue and studded with tiny stars. While he was far from familiar with the stars he could recognise that some were set into certain patterns and felt safe in his assumption that it was intended to be an accurate map of the night sky.

Turning his attention back to the room he found a small woman standing in the centre of the room with her arms raised above her head. With gentle fingers she plucked at the star map, singing quietly to herself as the selected star would fall gracefully to her fingertips. She would then point the star to a spot and allow it to float back up to its new home.

It made for quite the enchanting scene, he couldn’t recognise the song she was singing but it was haunting; it seemed to spread tranquil tendrils out into the dark recesses of the room, making it feel both expansive and comfortingly close. Hades wondered if this is what it felt like to float through space.

As his mind drifted his vision shifted and her soul came into focus. It was a dull shade of black but as she sung it began to shift and shimmer, revealing a bright array of colours beneath. While every soul was unique, he could say with confidence that he had never seen a soul even remotely like hers. He wondered if there was any significance to this.

While he would have loved nothing more than to while away the rest of the day thinking about souls, he was here for a reason. He cleared his throat and moved further into the room.

The music stopped and Kokabiel lowered her arms, turning to Hades. He was surprised to see she wore a full faced mask, a deep red that was unique to the Convocation. The expression of the mask was one of calm repose, a fitting expression considering his first impression of her workspace.

“Hello Hades. Thank you for coming.” Kokabiel said, bowing her head in greeting.

“Think nothing of it.” Hades murmured, “Though I am curious as to what this project of yours is.”

Kokabiel tilted her head to the side, “Did Hythlodaeus not tell you?”

“No, why would he?”

She stayed silent a moment before chuckling, “Because Hythlodaeus was the one who came up with this project.”

Trying his best to stifle the rising urge to find and throttle Hythlodaeus, Hades asked through gritted teeth: “What was the project he wanted us to work together on?”

Her shoulders began to shake with mirth when she noted his displeasure. “Oh no! What a fiend Hythlodaeus is! We are simply to design a creature. A bird, I believe.”

Hades near choked on his rage at being so soundly tricked but to his surprise the anger faded in the face of her laughter. He had to admit, the absurdity of the situation was rather amusing. Soon he was laughing with her.

* * *

“Behold, the sky returned to its former glory!” Emet-Selch cried, throwing his arms up into the air.

Of course this was when there was a mighty crack of thunder and the heavens opened up, dousing both Emet-Selch and the scions in ice cold water.

Turning back to his audience he could see the Warrior of Light’s lips twitch with suppressed laughter. She at least had the decency to wait for him to finish his act before bursting out in laughter. Her companions looked at her with great concern, gathering around her.

“Narmaeth?” The older elezen male inquired.

“My apologies,” she gasped, “This is just too absurd.”

While her friends looked amongst themselves with confusion, Emet-Selch felt a strange sense of nostalgia. It was a shame he couldn’t pursue it further.


	3. Bonding

While their collaboration had a strange start to it, Hades couldn’t deny that they worked beautifully together. They had worked well into the early hours of the morning coming up with a new species of bird that they were both satisfied with.

Though he wouldn’t openly admit it, he found himself opting for designs and features that he believed would make her laugh. He was especially proud of the outlandish beak he designed.

“It looks like a shoe!” Kokabiel had proclaimed, her fingers running over the beak of the model.

“Is that a bad thing?” Hades inquired, doing his best to feign offense.

“Not at all.” She assured him, “I think it’s delightful but that may be the lack of sleep talking.”

“We have been at this for some time, haven’t we?” He mused. Now that he thought on it, their laughter was probably fuelled more by exhaustion than genuine amusement. “We should pause here and resume another day.”

“Yes,” She answered faintly, leaning against his shoulder as fatigue began to set in. “Thank you, Hades. I know this was an unwelcome surprise for you but I am glad for this chance to get to know you.”

“Hythlodaeus’ meddling does occasionally produce remarkable results. Just don’t tell him I said that, he will be insufferably smug for years to come if he ever gets wind of this.”

“I won’t breathe a word.”

He smiled at that, reluctantly pulling away to take his leave.

“Hades?”

“Yes?” He turned back to her, surprised to see her reaching up to her mask. She pulled the mask away to reveal a beautiful face beneath, smiling at him.

“Thank you again. May I make a request of you? … Will you call me by my name, Celaeno?”

“It would be my pleasure, Celaeno.”

* * *

Emet-Selch had been following Narmaeth’s progress for some time now and while he had seen the striking similarities between Narmaeth and Celaeno in the beginning, he had soon found their differences glaringly obvious. Narmaeth had black sclera which made her gaze unnerving, whenever her tail moved he felt a shiver of revulsion, and she was significantly shorter. The latter he disliked simply because it left him with a cramp in his neck.

He also noted that Narmaeth was very careful in her speech. He had originally thought it was because she had little to say but then he had heard her speak when she was caught off guard. In that instance she had naturally rolled her ‘r’s and put a harsher emphasis on some of her consonants while others would have an additional ‘tz’ added to them.

Emet-Selch had found the accent entertaining until he had noted her agitation. When the conversation ended she had retreated to a private space and had shouted in frustration, spending half a bell trying to practice pronouncing her words the way her fellow Scions did.

When he next heard her speak to the other Scions he made an effort to listen to her speech pattern and his suspicion was confirmed: she spoke with a practiced neutral accent. He found it astounding that the great Warrior of Light could be so self-conscious of such a small detail.

What he found even more astounding was that he couldn’t stop obsessing over it. He began to try and listen for the accent when she spoke, to try and listen in when she was alone to see if it were any stronger then. He was certain Elidibus would have deemed this fixation unhealthy and he would have been right! Mortals were not worth this much attention!

Emet-Selch tried his best to limit how often he’d check in with her but it would never last long.

Finally one early morning he went to check her quarters and found her awake. On impulse he revealed himself.

Narmaeth had been sitting by the window shuffling her deck of cards when he appeared. She glanced up at him before returning her attention to her cards. “I would ask if you were familiar with the concept of privacy but I believe I would be wasting my breath.”

He should have given a witty response; charmed her with honeyed words to pique her curiosity. Instead, like a novice, he blurted out the question that had been bothering him all this time: “Why do you hide your accent?”

His question made her freeze mid-motion, the deck of cards slipping from her hands to the floor. She turned to flash him a suspicious glare. “How do you know about my accent?”

Ah, suspicion. This was something he was all too familiar with. With practiced ease, Emet-Selch fell back into his role, giving a languorous smile and dropping down onto the nearest chair, stretching his arms out as he yawned. “We Ascians can see a great many things. Why hide such a boring little detail?”

While Narmaeth’s composure remained neutral, Emet-Selch could see a range of emotions flicker in her eyes, wariness, confusion, and vulnerability being the most prominent.

“You wish to know the reason behind a ‘boring little detail’?”

Emet-Selch considered his answer; if he phrased this wrong then she would likely shut down and dismiss his question. He knew it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, in a century or two he’d likely forget what her accent was. But… he wanted to know, so he gave her a truth: “I do sometimes take interest in your mortals, you know.”

As his words hung in the air Emet-Selch found his heart felt sore, as if he had just offered her a small part of himself. Suddenly a light conversation to sate his curiosity had turned into something very serious. An irrevocable contract had been made.

“You founded an empire that is fond of calling outsiders ‘savages’, but even those who live near my homeland consider us to be barbaric.” Her words were soft and quiet, and she had to look away before continuing. Clearly he was not the only one to find their omission difficult. “When I left the Steppes I saw how everyone treated me with wariness, as if they had come into contact with a feral creature. It felt like there was no opportunity to be seen as an equal. Every achievement seemed to come with the caveat ‘for a barbarian’.

“Arriving in Eorzea was harder… Nothing was familiar. Even now I sometimes long for the Steppes.” She leaned down to pick up a card from the floor, frowning at the picture. Setting it aside, she continued, “It’s a roundabout way to answer your question, but I suppose I hide it because I hate being thought of as a savage.”

_What a mortal thing to be concerned about!_

Yet it was clear it did bother her and he felt the urge to comfort her.

Pulling himself out of his chair, he stepped over to her and, with a fingertip under her chin, turned her face towards him. Leaning down to ensure their gaze met, he spoke: “You are arguably the most powerful woman alive. You are as close to a paragon as is possible in a world of fools. You should never care about the opinions of those around you.”

“Like you?” She inquired, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

“Just so! You’ll find you sleep far better that way.”

“The bags under your eyes show that to be a lie.”

“Oh? Do you often gaze upon them?”

Her smile widened, “Those bags can be seen from a malm away.”

“And here I thought you were simply enchanted by my eyes.”

Her next words were so quiet that Emet-Selch wondered if she had intended to say them out loud: “Well, there is that.”

Emet-Selch felt a familiar thrill run down his spine. How many years had it been since he had last seen Celaeno? And sitting before him now was as close a reincarnation as he had ever seen. Would her lips feel the same?

His vision naturally shifted to see her soul and his heart stopped.

Something was very, very wrong.

The colours that shone within should have been bright, saturated shades. Now they were paler and the normal black was fading to a shade of grey.

_The light!_

She had consumed the light from two Lightwardens already. She was fully intending to take in the aether of the other three. Indeed, his plan hinged entirely on her doing so. Yet a horrifying thought came to him in that moment: If she couldn’t contain the light what would happen to Celaeno’s soul? Would it survive? What if it shattered into irreparable pieces and he lost her for good.

He was surprised to see his vision begin to blur, his hands shaking ever so slightly. He had done countless atrocious things, acts that many considered horrifying. He had even taken the life of many who had housed Celaeno’s soul. He hadn’t batted an eye at any of it but the possibility of losing Celaeno’s soul forever brought true fear to him.

_I must do whatever it takes to bring them all back._

He pulled away and took a deep breath. “As entertaining as this is, I must go do other boring Ascian things. Farewell for now my dear hero.”

He vanished before she could react, however the next time he eavesdropped while she was with her Scion friends, he was pleased to hear that she didn’t bother to hide her accent.


	4. The Bird

Eventually Hades and Celaeno had settled on a sound concept for the bird, she had insisted they keep the strange beak, and they had submitted it.

Hades paused in his work, his vision growing unfocused as he tried to recall how long ago they had finished that project. Weeks? Months?

Time seemed to be slipping by Hades, he realised as he sat back in his chair. If he wasn’t deep in his work assessing and approving concepts, he was more often than not in the company of Celaeno. Whether they were taking part in debates in the Hall of Rhetoric or joining in seminars in the Akadaemia, soon everyone was remarking upon how they seemed to be inseparable now.

Hythlodaeus had been scare in the beginning, somehow managing to predict when Hades intended to confront him and ensuring he was absent. As Hades ire faded Hythlodaeus began to join them for some of their outings. Hades often thought he saw Hythlodaeus give a smug grin out of the corner of his eye but he was never able to catch him actually doing so.

When he took the time to actually think about his relationship with Celaeno, he found it startling that their lives had joined together so seamlessly. It felt like there had never been a time when he hadn’t known her. Was this what they referred to as kindred souls? If so then he regretted not finding her sooner.

“Hard at work I see.” Hythlodaeus remarked with humour, bringing Hades back to the present.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

Hythlodaeus laughed at that, “Yes, ‘just me’ I’m afraid. It is good to know that if I wish for a warm welcome I need to bring along Kokabiel.”

Hades felt his cheeks warm and bit back a retort, “Very funny. Is there something you want?”

“I have excellent news!” Hythlodaeus announced, producing a concept crystal with a flourish. “Your bird concept has been approved!” Dropping it into Hades’ hands, Hythlodaeus leaned in, “Though I think the name needs work.”

“Well it’s too late for that! If you don’t mind, I’d like to share the good news with my co-creator.”

“By all means.” Hythlodaeus waved his friend away, not bothering to hide his smile as he watched Hades eagerly leave his work behind.

He found Celaeno in her workspace as usual; though this time she was staring up at the star map as if she were lost in thought, the atmosphere of the room seemed pensive which Hades found troubling.

Fortunately it didn’t take long for her to notice his presence, as she turned to him she removed her mask and smiled, “You seem excited.”

For the first time Hades noted something strange happening, her soul flared with colour when she saw him. It was… flattering. Combined with seeing her lovely smile it left him speechless. He could feel the blush creeping across his cheeks and was glad he had his mask still on.

Celaeno noticed his silence, a bemused expression crossing her face. “Hades?”

“Oh!” Trying his best to regain his composure, Hades lifted up the concept crystal. “Our bird was approved!”

Celaeno’s face lit up with delight, “That is wonderful news! I’m surprised Hythlodaeus didn’t try to make us change the name.”

“Oh he most certainly had an opinion to share on the name.”

“A good thing it’s too late.”

He grinned at that, “Exactly my thought my dear.”

* * *

Observing this incarnation from a distance was easy enough; she stood out like a beacon among the golden grass of Kholusia.

What Emet-Selch hadn’t expected was for her to spot _him._

A further surprise lay in store for him, for when she saw the bird form he had taken, she dissolved into uncontrollable laughter that left her companions utterly perplexed. When she calmed down she herself admitted that she didn’t know _why_ she found that species of bird so amusing but every time she spotted it after that, she would giggle.

He found himself taking the form and waiting in easy to see spots for her to find him whenever he spotted her looking especially troubled.


	5. Emotions

They were sitting on the floor in her workspace, Hades leaning back on his arms to watch as she worked on some sort of tool.

“Is it really so interesting to watch me for hours on end?” Celaeno teased, glancing up from her work to flash him a small smile.

“It is. You should be honoured.”

That earned him a laugh. “Ah yes, the great Hades, our Lord of the Underworld, deigns to waste his time watching me create.”

“’Lord of the Underworld’?”

“Do you not like the title? I’m afraid your unparalleled skill is to blame for that one.” She explained with an apologetic look, though she soon was laughing again when she saw his disdain. “Worry not, friend. You are not the sole object of their attention.”

“Well, that is very comforting!”

“If it is comfort you want, I could tell you of some of my history. I’ve certainly inspired a lot of gossip.”

Hades hadn’t thought of that before, Celaeno always appeared so composed to him. The notion that she was the source of so much gossip was… odd. “Do tell.”

Celaeno held the unfinished tool up to inspect it closely, moving it from side to side. “While my talents lie primarily in divination, astrology and astronomy, I did once take a passing interest in the research the Department of Phantomology was conducting. The concept of Eikons is an interesting one. ”

“I don’t believe I’m familiar with the name Eikon.”

“Some prefer to call them Primals, although Guardian Force is just as fitting a name. One summons a phantom entity with a specific task in mind for it, a temporary construct to carry out the wishes of its creator. I wanted to explore that to its fullest potential.”

Hades had heard and briefly read about the Primal research, though he couldn’t recall Celaeno’s name being attached to any of the research. “You said it was a passing interest?”

Celaeno set the tool down in her lap, her demeanour growing troubled as she continued. “To summon even a simple Eikon requires a significant amount of aether. A complex task requires a sophisticated construct for the solution, thus the aether requirement becomes more taxing. We looked into possibly storing the needed aether in crystals but it takes time to safely transfer it. It wouldn’t do if there was an emergency.

“Then I had a vision of someone sacrificing themselves to create an Eikon. It horrified me.”

That sent a chill down Hades’ spine. What could possibly happen to cause someone to do something so extreme? It seemed unthinkable that they could ever be in such danger.

“I brought it up to the others and they were just as troubled… but it did beg the question: if many were to sacrifice their aether, what would the resulting construct look like? What could it achieve? It felt like we had stumbled upon a path with significant consequences. It struck me with terror. I spent sleepless nights searching the stars for answers but nothing I saw could put me at ease. I parted ways with the department soon after this and refocused on my studies of the stars.

“Even now I deeply regret that research. I feel a desperate need to redeem myself but I don’t know why. All I have is my sense of foreboding.”

Hades pulled Celaeno into an embrace, uncertain what else he could offer. This was new knowledge to him and he felt entirely out of his depth on how to offer advice. All he knew was that Celaeno, for all her good humour, was carrying a great burden. If his embrace could be of some small comfort, he would hold her for however long she needed.

As time passed she seemed to relax more, resting her head on his shoulder. He enjoyed holding her in his arms. Still, surely he could do more for her?

Perhaps a distraction would work? “Do you have a name in mind for the tool?”

She stirred long enough to retrieve the tool before settling back in his arms, showing him the item. “I’m thinking of calling it an astrolabe.”

* * *

_Narmaeth’s gaze didn’t leave the first mural, her mind clearly elsewhere while the Scions discussed Emet-Selch’s revelations. When they had turned to her to any sort of opinion she had acted as if coming out of a deep trance._

_“Amaurot.” She whispered, turning towards Emet-Selch. “And you are agapatós.”_

Her words repeated in Emet-Selch’s mind constantly. Where had she learned the name? Could it be that she was remembering her original life? He was at a loss, at the very beginning when the fragmented souls could still vaguely remember Amaurot he had tried everything he could think of to try and get her to remember.

Nothing had worked.

So why could she remember now? Was this Hydaelyn’s way of mocking him? Or was this an attempt to lure him away from his true path with Zodiark? Perhaps this was all a sign that he was on the right track and their goal was within sight.

He needed to find out just how much she remembered.

Narmaeth was nowhere to be found amongst the revellers in Fanow or Slitherbough, which meant she had likely slipped away into the forest while no one was looking. Closing his eyes, Emet-Selch brought to mind her soul and searched for it nearby.

He refused to acknowledge that he could just as easily search for her by the amount of light that was polluting her aether now.

He found her to the far south of Slitherbough at the foot of a waterfall, idly wading through the shallow water as she sung quietly to herself.

Something about the song struck him as familiar, it took a while for him to remember but when he did it was bittersweet. It was one of many songs Celaeno would sing to him though this one was unique in that she had never told him if there were any lyrics; she had only ever sung the melody. When he had asked all she would say was it wasn’t the right time and that one day she would tell him.

Thousands of years had passed since then.

Narmaeth wasn’t singing the lyrics now either and he felt an urge to laugh bitterly over that. It was just one more reminder that Celaeno was gone and, if her soul was destroyed as he feared, he would never see her again.

He heard footsteps splashing towards him and was shocked to see Narmaeth standing before him. “How did you find me?”

She tilted her head to the side, “There is something about you… it calls to me. I don’t know how to explain it. It was like finding the spot for you to rescue Y’shtola. It just felt like the right spot.” Lifting her damp skirts, she twirled away from him. “Do you dance?”

He recoiled at the idea of exerting so much energy. “I do not. I have more questions.”

“I’m sure you do! Well then, ask them!” She let go of her skirts, spread out her arms and began to dance. Water flew out in arcs around her as she executed steps, her movement smooth and elegant. She was a talented dancer.

He couldn’t remember if Celaeno had ever danced.

“How do you know the name Amaurot?”

“I didn’t before today. When I saw the mural I recognised the city from my dreams and the name came unbidden.”

Just watching her was exhausting. He gingerly checked the ground for dampness and sat. “You have dreamt of Amaurot?”

“All my life I would have dreams of walking through an empty but beautiful city. I could never remember enough when I awoke but… I knew I had to find it. It’s why I left the Steppes.”

“Do you remember what you called me?”

“Agapatós. It is what your soul is to mine.” She burst into another familiar song,

_“I wasn't after forever  
Just for whatever   
I was one of the dark hearts   
Thought that they'd never truly be opened   
But this is an explosion   
Of star crossed and blood rushed   
And hair tossed and cheeks flushed   
And weeks lost   
I wasn't looking for you”_

She fell to her knees before him, panting from the exertion. She was dishevelled and yet, somehow she had never looked more beautiful than she did now in the moonlight.

“Do you remember anything else?” He asked quietly, almost frightened of what answer she would give.

“Fragments. Shards. Enough to know you speak the truth. Sometimes I feel like there are significant things I must remember in order to walk the right path… but I can’t. I can’t remember and I don’t know how to. All I know is that I’m running out of time.”

“You won’t remember.” He had seen it before, in the very beginning of the sundering. It had almost broken him completely to see the mockery of everything he had loved. Hearing it again now was… difficult. He felt the lump form in his throat, the twist of agony in his chest.

What brought him back to the present was the chill touch of her hands on his cheeks. She had moved much closer to him, her lips barely a breath away from his.

“May I ask you something?” She whispered, waiting for him to nod. “Can you forgive me? For my inevitable failure? For my past failures?”

He frowned, unsure as to why she was asking such things. Was she experiencing some sort of precognition? Did she divine something of the future?

_Her failure._

It seemed to suffocate the tiny flame of hope he had clung onto. He refused to believe this would all end in failure. Everything they had sacrificed had to mean something.

But how was he to answer her questions?

“We are enemies. It is inevitable that one of us must fall. So why do I love you so?” She wondered aloud, closing the distance to kiss him.

He wondered the same himself.


	6. Journeys

Word of odd entities in distant lands had reached the ears of the Convocation. Hades stood among his peers listening as Lahabrea read out the latest report; creatures of horrific design were being spontaneously brought into existence yet no one could discern the author of these entities.

It was deeply disturbing.

The air in the room felt heavy, everyone seemed stunned into complete silence. The sense of fear and uncertainty was palpable. Hades wondered if the others felt that they were in some sort of terrible dream and whether they shared his reluctance to speak up lest the sound tear them out of their vain hope that this wasn’t their new reality.

Had this been any other meeting to discuss a problem he would have expected Celaeno to speak up by now, giving her usual cryptic comments and nuggets of information. That she was silent now was odd and worrying.

Celaeno was standing apart from the group, staring out the window with her hands tightly clasped in front of her. She was clearly troubled by these events and Hades went to her, taking her hands in his. “What do your stars say?” He asked quietly, lifting her chin up so she faced him.

“Change is coming. We are on a course from which there is no escape. How we act now will have long reaching consequences.” Her voice dropped to a whisper then, “I am terrified of what I have seen.”

“What have you seen?”

“Ruin.”

The answer settled like an unwelcome weight in his stomach, his very core overcome with a deep, dark, and cold fear. Surely she had read her stars wrong? They had to be wrong.

Hades forced himself to don an air of confidence, “We are the finest minds on this star. We will solve this problem and we can return to making elaborate excuses to avoid work.”

She gave a shaky laugh and squeezed his hands gently before turning back to the others. “Does anyone recall anything like this happening in our history? I do not.”

“No, but it is worth scouring the archives in case something has escaped our memory.” Elidibus responded, seeming about ready to flee out the door to begin that very moment. He likely would have succeeded in doing so had Igeyorhm not blocked his path.

“Perhaps it would be best to send one of our own to observe and confirm these events.” Said Mitron, the others quietly nodding in agreement. “Does anyone volunteer?”

“I do.” Celaeno answered.

“What?!” Hades exclaimed.

A chuckle brought Hades back to his senses and he reluctantly let go of Celaeno’s hands and stepped back.

Deudalaphon, still chuckling, spoke: “This wouldn’t be the first time Kokabiel has been on an expedition for us, Emet-Selch. Though she has been more inclined to stay in Amaurot these past few years, Kokabiel has travelled this star more extensively than the rest of us combined.”

“I understand your trepidation but rest assured she will not be alone. Students from the Words of Lahabrea and the department of Phantomology will be accompanying her.” Igeyorhm added, though it still did little to ease the sense of unease Hades felt.

“I must see this for myself.” Celaeno whispered. “I need to see what can be done.”

Whatever his heart told him, he knew that Celaeno was her own person and if this was what she wanted to do, he wouldn’t stop her. “My apologies, Kokabiel, I spoke out of place. I support your decision, of course. I am simply concerned.”

“I understand. This is an unusual situation.” Lowering her voice again, she leaned in to him, “I suspect several people are readying to bombard me with requests for various things to bring back from my journey, but I will find you once I have a moment and we can speak more in private.”

She was certainly right in her prediction, once the meeting was over Lahabrea wasted no time in pulling her to the side to discuss potentially bringing back a specimen to study.

At least the mood had lightened now that they had a plan of action.

* * *

Narmaeth entered her personal suite and locked the door behind her. A sigh of relief followed as she began shucking off her travelling bags, pulling off the muddied and worn clothes, and casting them all aside in a corner to be forgotten for a few hours.

As the layers were shed her exhaustion became more evident. Her feet dragged as she made her way to the bath tub, dropping in it unceremoniously.

Her shoulders sagged and tears trickled down her cheeks as she begun scrubbing. Hitched breaths and quiet sobs filled the air.

Emet-Selch watched through the eyes of a bird on the balcony, uncertain what was causing her distress. Was this simply her expressing emotional fatigue from the journey back? Or was something else troubling her?

His mind returned to the night of their kiss, Narmaeth had left him alone after it and he had been glad for it. He wasn’t quite sure what he would have done if she had remained. To be truthful he was in conflict with himself, he still firmly believed these mortals to be a mockery of what they once were. Malformed creatures unworthy of his affection…

Yet he cared for Narmaeth and while his interest had begun because of her resemblance to Celaeno, he was beginning to see Narmaeth for herself. He enjoyed her differences, her dancing, the way she inspired hope in him. The more time he spent with her, the more he could believe that she was worthy of... something.

His heart?

His legacy?

He wasn’t sure.

He hated himself for it. He had sacrificed so much. All these years had been in service to bringing back his people. To cast it aside now would be to betray them. To betray the star they loved.

He had to keep his distance.

So he watched her gingerly wash the dirt from her skin, inspect her body for injuries.

Tedious stuff, really.

Except…

_Clink_

What was that odd sound?

_Clink_

A light tinkling sound; like stones hitting one another lightly.

_Clink_

He scanned the room but could see nothing that could possibly have made the sound…

_Clink_

There! He heard the sound again!

_Clink_

His gaze focused on Narmaeth now, watching carefully as she moved. He noticed then that patches of her skin looked… different. The tip of one of her fingers tapped against a small patch of skin on her thigh, making the noise.

Judging by the way she was tapping the area, Narmaeth had caught the change as well. Her eyes were wide with panic, her breath short as she tried to process the changes in her body. She didn’t seem to understand what was causing it but Emet-Selch had a suspicion: the light aspected aether she had been absorbing was already beginning to have a physical effect on her.

He wondered if she would last long enough to defeat the other wardens, if she could survive the light. Could she contain that much light? Reverse the effects?

As confident as he was in Narmaeth’s abilities, she was still a far cry from Celaeno. He could not see any way for her to overcome this.

... Yet if she were anything like his Celaeno, she would doubtless find a way to surprise him.

Still, her stars had not been kind enough to grant him a happy fate so far. No matter what plans he made, no matter what outcome he could dream up, he could not see a future where one of them would not experience the crippling pain of losing the other.

He wished he were more jaded to the pain of that loss. He had lived it once surely he would be more prepared the second time to withstand the pain.

Emet-Selch couldn’t remember the last time he had prayed, but he prayed with all his heart for fate to grant them a different ending to this story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your wonderful comments and support!
> 
> I wanted to update earlier but 5.3 landed a critical hit on my heart and I've needed time to recover.
> 
> We also had a heatwave from hell and I am the very definition of 'heat intolerant'.


	7. Chapter 7

The expedition had returned a few days ago and every last one of its members appeared haunted by what they had witnessed. If what they had seen was anything like the monstrosity they had returned with, Hades did not envy them the experience.

Worse yet, Celaeno was deeply affected by the experience. She barely seemed present in their conversations and she would often seal herself away in her workspace to frantically search her stars. Hades wasn’t sure what she was looking for but he felt so helpless when he’d watch her emerge with the heavy air of despair about her.

A cool, cold, rainy morning found him and Celaeno remaining in bed. She was turned towards the window behind the bed, chin resting in her palm. Next to him and yet so far away, Hades was uncertain how to reach her.

“They’ve chosen a name for the specimen: Archaeotania.” He murmured, watching her flinch at the mention of its name. “What happened out there, Celaeno? You came back to us as a ghost of yourself.”

She met his gaze, her voice hushed as she began to speak: “It was like gazing upon our worst nightmares. Our greatest fears were created before our very eyes and we couldn’t make sense of it. Whatever created them knew our weakness, knew how to foil our every attempt at understanding it. We went in so confident but… Hades… I’m afraid. I don’t know if this is something we are capable of facing.”

“What do you mean?”

“The path we are following is full of tragedy and loss. Perhaps it will one day have a happy resolution but I will not live to see it.”

Hades froze at that, “You’ve seen your death?”

Celaeno shook her head, “No but I have seen the death of Amaurot. I know that only a small few of us will survive.”

“Impossible.”

“It is possible Hades.” She moved closer to him, taking his hands in hers, “I spent so long searching for a way to prevent this but I cannot. What I can change is so small and insignificant, it’s hard sometimes to feel like it’s worth doing… but I do it.”

“I don’t understand, Celaeno.”

She smiled sadly, “I know. What I have to say won’t make much sense right now but I must say it while we have this time. There are things I must do that will make little sense but please know that I do them out of love for you and our people. I do them so that perhaps, sometime in the far future, we can be happy again.”

There was that sense of foreboding again, slowly curling its fingers around his throat. “Celaeno…”

“I wonder if one day, you will be able to forgive me.” She mused, “A great deal of sorrow lies ahead of us, so I would give you this.” With the flick of her fingers she created a small trinket, an earring. “A gift; something to remind you of my love for you, and a promise that no matter what we will meet again.”

“You speak as if this is the last time we will see one another.”

She didn’t respond, instead returning her attention to the rain outside. She began humming a song he didn’t recognise, likely a song she had just thought up. When she finished she spoke up again, “’Be Still My Tongue’. Perhaps when we next meet I’ll let you know the lyrics.”

Hades took a breath to protest when an alarm sounded, something he had never, ever heard before. Lahabrea’s voice rang out in the room:

“ _We need you both to get to the Akadaemia immediately. Archaeotania has escaped!”_

* * *

“Get your boots off my bed.” Narmaeth grumbled, making a half-hearted attempt to push Emet-Selch’s legs off the covers.

“My boots are clean.” He protested, flashing his most charming smile.

Rolling her eyes she gave a grunt of frustration before flopping down on top of him. “Stupid Ascian.”

He laughed at that, “Pray tell, what exactly about me is stupid?”

“Everything.” Her voice was muffled by his clothes but he could make it out all the same. She moved a little to prod at the medals on his breast, “These are also uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry for being so uncomfortable.” He wasn’t. Judging by the glare she gave when she raised her head, she knew it too. “Aren’t you meant to be preparing for Amh Araeng?”

She groaned again, rolling off the bed. “Yes. I was hoping to enjoy my bed a final time before we set out but someone,” a pointed look in his direction that caused his grin to grow wider, “ruined that plan.”

Emet-Selch watched as Narmaeth began setting out her equipment, carefully inspecting the condition of each piece. As she moved onto packing travelling supplies, he felt a sense of nostalgia.

The sound of tearing cloth brought him back to the present; she was ripping strips of cloth into bandages. “Why are you here? Don’t you have nefarious Ascian things to do? Or naps to take?”

“I was planning to take a nap here.” Truthfully he didn’t know why he was there; he supposed he simply wanted to enjoy her company. He refused to accompany her to Amh Araeng so this would be the last time they’d spend time together until she returned. 

_If_ she returned.

That was always a risk, that the next Lightwarden would be the one to slay her.

He sensed her approaching, leaning over him. “You really should take your boots off if you plan to sleep.”

He shrugged, “Worry not my dear; they will be clean when you return.”

She frowned, reaching out to flick his earring. The moment her skin made contact with it something happened: a faint, vaguely familiar melody began to play.

What did this mean?

_“A gift; something to remind you of my love for you, and a promise that no matter what we will meet again.”_

The words rang clearly in his mind.

In a flash he was up, hand around Narmaeth’s throat as he pushed her to the bed. “What did you do?” He hissed, gaze narrowing on her surprised expression.

“I don’t know! I just heard the song when I touched your earring…” Narmaeth gasped. She tapped the hand he had around his throat until he loosened his grip, moving to simply rest his hands beside her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was so significant to you.” Her expression grew pensive as she rubbed her throat. “I know I have never heard it before but I _know_ it.”

“You heard the song.”

“Yes?” She began to hum the tune, “’Be Still My Tongue’. It’s a song of sorrow. I… created the song? This doesn’t make sense.”

Emet-Selch shifted to sit beside her, holding his head in his hands. How many years had it been? Celaeno was dead. This woman wasn’t her, yet Celaeno had said they would meet again. Was this some sort of sick joke?

A tear trickled down his cheek.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched her sit up, reach over and gently brush away the tear. “Would you like me to sing it?”

“Please.” Was all he was willing to say, letting her pull him to her, rest his head against her chest and lose himself in the song.


	8. Favour

They were at the curious construction in Kholusia; Emet-Selch believed it was referred to as the Ladder. Not the most elegant of constructions but if they could get it to work then he supposed it served its purpose well enough.

Narmaeth stood back from the crowd, letting her mask of quiet confidence slip a little while no one was looking. Emet-Selch could see she was weary; the Light was taking its toll. It wouldn’t be too long before their finale.

He had swept in, tucking her arm in his and leading her away from them to a pleasant enough vista; anything to take her mind away from the impending battle. Their conversation was quiet, unremarkable in the grand scheme of things.

The everlasting light was a headache but Emet-Selch could see one benefit to it, it caused her scales to dance beautifully with light. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the scales on her arms. With her soul practically bleached of colour at this point, it was all he had left.

“A favour for a favour?” He found himself asking.

Narmaeth looked up to him, he could never get over how short this incarnation was, a brow raised to prompt him to continue his line of thought.

“I would like one of your scales, as a keepsake. In return, you may ask me whatever you like.”

“A scale?”

Emet-Selch shrugged, “You may say no if you please.”

“I… am merely surprised. That you want something so… mundane.” She stumbled over her words; the request had obviously flustered her. “You don’t find it morbid to keep a part of your enemy?”

“Are we really enemies?”

She shrugged, “Very well, you may have one. They grow back relatively quickly.”

With a snap of his fingers he had his prize, “So, what is your question?”

Narmaeth remained quiet for some time, her gaze drifting to the sky above as she considered what to ask. He waited patiently, he was curious to see what she would choose to ask. Would it be something mundane or something unexpected? It was part of what he liked about her; he couldn’t predict what she might ask.

“If you were to succeed in your goal of reuniting the shards and restoring your people, would you remember me?”

He paused to think on that. Would he remember Narmaeth?

“I could never forget you, my dear.”


	9. Agony

Something was very, very wrong.

Hades felt his pulse pounding in his ears, his breath laboured as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

His gaze shifted and he recoiled at what he saw. The Lifestream, until recently a beautiful, vibrant thing, was now sickly to look at. It made his stomach churn to see it violated like this.

To make matters worse, everyone he encountered was a complete stranger to him. Malformed, pale creatures with souls that were sundered to the point that he could barely recognise them.

Eventually he found Lahabrea in an equally dazed state. Together they searched desperately for answers but what they found only confirmed their greatest fears.

Elidibus found them next. He wasn’t certain how Elidibus had managed to separate from Zodiark but Hades was glad to see another familiar face.

The gratitude faded fast when they realised what had happened to their beloved star.

To their people.

Hades had searched desperately for Celaeno, only to find a fragment of her soul in someone who didn’t recognise him and looked nothing like his love.

In that moment did Hades finally break, falling into such agonising despair that his fellow unsundered were at a loss. Worse yet, they held little sympathy for him: how could he care so much for one who had betrayed them? She had resigned from her seat and left them when they needed her most.

He screamed, raged, and cried out at the injustice of it all. Only when he felt spent did he retreat into the solace of sleep. Throughout the millennia to come slumber was his greatest comfort.

* * *

Narmaeth was dishevelled, bloodied and bruised. She was bent over, clutching a wound in her side as she stared directly at Hades.

Her soul shone brighter, completely free of the light that was polluting her… but something else was different. She had somehow regained another shard. It was everything he had ever wanted but it didn’t matter now.

Narmaeth was whole again and he was so glad for it.

He gently touched the wound in his torso and glanced down before returning his gaze to her face. He could see the light of realisation in her eyes; she was beginning to remember more. It broke his heart that he wouldn’t be present to witness her learn of her old life but it also brought him joy. He felt as if this was the closest he had ever come to his goal of reuniting with his beloved.

He felt his aether dissipate and spoke aloud his final message. _Remember us. Remember that we once lived._

A plea that was both selfless and selfish: remember their people, remember Hades and Celaeno.

As his consciousness began to fade he heard Narmaeth’s heartrending scream. A wail of despair, heartbreak, and pain that struck him to his very soul. Oh how he wished he hadn’t been the source of her heartbreak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as polished at the first 5 chapters but hopefully still enjoyable.
> 
> I have nothing else I want to add to this so I consider it done, thank you for reading!
> 
> Now to go back to hoping that we haven't seen the last of Emet-Selch in game.


End file.
